


The Sunflowers Always Find Their Way to The Sun

by watcher_ofthe_sky



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gratsu - Freeform, Imagery, M/M, POV Second Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watcher_ofthe_sky/pseuds/watcher_ofthe_sky
Summary: And it's then you realise that maybe he is the gold chest after which you have spent eternities looking for.
Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	The Sunflowers Always Find Their Way to The Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splendidlyimperfect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splendidlyimperfect/gifts).



> @splendidlyimperfect left a lovely review on Maybe Sinning is Okay and so this was the result. <3

There are sunflowers growing on the tip of your tongue, for your words somehow find ways to reach him. He is your sun.

In the hollows of your body, you have a garden where there are rivers flowing from which air comes until it fills your lungs. His lips find their way to drink from them while he holds and puts his arms around you like mountains protecting their valleys. From the depths of your throat a voice comes out and it echoes.

Your eyes are blue and he says that he can see the night sky in it.

You scoff. “Dumbass, nights are black.”

He smiles and suddenly your eyes are glinting (because gods, he is _smiling_ and you're so weak for it). He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “But I can see galaxies in them.”

And fuck, you hold him tighter, nails digging deeper in his skin. You want to tell him that he is the reason for your light, otherwise you would just be a dying star shrinking and shrinking in its coldness.

His hands find their way in your hair and you collide your lips to his because he is the fire that lights up everything but doesn't burn anything. He is the warmth that trails the spring.

He is the map that you lose yourself in; forever trying to find the treasure.

“I am here,” he says.

And it's then you realise that maybe he is the gold chest after which you have spent eternities looking for.

“I have found you,” you whisper back.

The sunflowers always find their way to the sun.


End file.
